


lights on

by pprfaith



Category: Glee
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Humor, Singing, That's it actually.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pprfaith/pseuds/pprfaith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glee is special. Even at 11.30 pm. Or: Mike and zombies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lights on

**Author's Note:**

> Typos are mine, the song belongs to Everlast.

.

Mike has nightmares about zombies in supermarkets. 

No, seriously. He can’t help it. He’s got this phobia of halogen lights and has since he was a kid. He always thought that the people in supermarkets were zombies because of those stupid, bright, artificial lights. 

And really, can you blame him? His parents happily feed a cliché by owning a small store catering mostly to the small Chinese community in Lima. Mike spent more than his fair share of time in that store when his parents were working late, restocking shelves, doing inventory. He used to sit behind the counter on the high barstool his mother kept there just for him, and watch zombies come and go. 

(He thinks that might be why he likes the computer games where he can blow up the undead best.)

Halogen lights bleach people. They suck color and texture out of everything, turning it pale and dead. They cast funny shadows into eye sockets and under cheekbones. They make hands looks spindly, like you can look right through the skin and see the bones. No matter how fresh veggies or fruit in the supermarket are, they always look like this plastic shit they use to decorate in cheap Italian restaurants. Unreal and unhealthy. Like, you know that if you bite into that tomato, it’s gonna be disgusting and fake and like, totally deadly or something. 

And then the lights have this tendency to flicker, which is totally nineties horror movie. Everything gets all choppy and screwed up, tainted in blues and greens and greys and yeah, horror movie.

Have you ever tried taking a picture of someone under artificial lights, like at a party or something? In the pictures, people have skin like chalk, eyes like holes and grotesque smiles. Totally creepy. 

Take now for example. The complete glee club is currently sitting spread around four tables at McDonald’s. It’s after eleven in the evening and they just finished a practice for some stupid fund raiser Mr. Schue volunteered them for next week. These food runs are tradition and no gleek would ever dare bow out because they’re, like, totally compulsory events that started way back when Quinn was still knocked up and got those weird craving. Eventually Puck and Finn got tired of running to get her food and simply started dragging her to where the food was and the rest of them followed. (Come on, they’re teenagers. They can always eat. Yes, even Rachel. She bitches about fats and vocal chords the whole time, but she stuffs down fast food like any other kid her age.) 

But tonight they’re all tired from having danced and sung for the past six hours straight and their smiles are ugly in the bright overhead lights. Tina’s already pale make-up makes her look like a week old corpse in this light and Rachel’s and Santana’s usually impeccable tans look washed out. Even Mercedes and Matt, who _really_ shouldn’t look pale, totally do. 

Puck’s ‘hawk is casting all kinds of shadows on his closely shorn scalp, making him look more like a serial killer than usual. Quinn’s bright hair is mostly white and with her pale blue dress? Instant corpse bride. Kurt reminds Mike of a mannequin, all prettied up and totally freaky. 

It’s all. The. Lights. 

There’s a group of five people in business suits and skirts sitting in the far corner, quietly eating and talking. They look like props from the first _Resident Evi_ l movie, where all the office drones get infected with the killer virus. A few kids from East Lima are at the counter, ordering food and smelling of sweat. They give them the stink eye because Puck and Matt are wearing their letterman jackets and East Lima sucks even worse than McKinley. They sweep out of the place as soon as the last guy has his bag’o’heart attack.

A hand full of community college people are hanging out at the back of the restaurant, talking about philosophy and shit, feeling superior to the high school kids that look like freaks. Mike’s used to it. They aren’t exactly an inconspicuous group, what with a giant, a rebel with a Mohawk, a wheelchair kid, a lady fabulous guy, a bunch of cheerleaders, a goth and a girl that talks as loudly as other people scream. The overworked people behind the counter don’t look anyone in the eye, totally blending with the furniture. 

Zombies. All of them. Pale and hollow and creepy and Mike totally has to make himself eat his hamburger because this phobia of his? Not really a joke. Don’t get him wrong. McDonald’s grub in daylight? Awesome. But at night, under the artificial lights it’s all radioactive waste and zombie guts.

He pushes his tray away, smiles at Brittany because she happens to meet his gaze and leans back in his chair, looking around at his crew. (Yeah, his crew. These people let him pop’n’lock and they listen when he talks and shit. His crew.)

Beside him, Matt is discussing choreography with San and Britt, who are doing naughty things under each others’ skirts. (Mike knows. He dropped his straw earlier to check.) Mercedes and Tina are arguing costumes. Mercy wants pastels, Tina wants purple. Mike groans inwardly because he knows they’re going to come up with some screwed up compromise, like purple with lilac highlights or something. And he just can’t pull of lilac. At all. Hell, before glee, he didn’t know there was such a thing as lilac. 

Kurt is sitting next to Mercedes, bitching about his single status, his skin, his new jacket which is apparently too big in the shoulders, Mr. Schue’s haircut and the world in general. Quinn is kindly pretending to listen while she sits on Finn’s lap and mops up his leftover ketchup with the last of her fries. 

Puck and Rachel sit across from them, her legs in his lap because those two can’t keep their hands off each other for more than ten seconds or something. For a while there Mike thought it would get better once they started sleeping with each other, but it only got that much worse. (Rumor has it that she has a color coded chart in her room, where she has every second of his daily routine all worked out so she always knows where to find him.)

Puck and Finn are discussing new tactics that won’t make the football team suck any less than it does, with occasional input from Kurt, when he runs out of bitch-steam for a moment. His suggestions (‘kissing the enemy is a valid way to confuse them’) are completely ignored. Rachel, when she isn’t busy protecting her food from Puck’s wandering hands, is chatting with Artie about their plans for the summer.

All in all, it’s glee the way it always is, everyone talking over each other, a million things going on at once, football and music and sex and divas and friendships.

Finn is absently drumming his fingers on the table in a rhythm he probably caught off the radio or something, using empty cups and trays to vary his theme. Quinn smacks at his hands a couple of time, but Finn is a drummer and she’s long since used to it. Hell, the guy probably drums on her if she holds still long enough.

“Dude,” Puck eventually says, eyebrows drawn together. “I know that song.”

And just like that he reaches for his guitar case sitting on the floor behind his chair. Before glee, Puck refused to be seen in public with his guitar. (Actually, no-one but Finn actually knew he played the guitar until glee) These days he lugs it around pretty much all the time. They’ve had jam sessions in the choir room, the auditorium, on bus rides, on the bleachers and in pretty much every other place where high school kids hang out with any regularity. 

(Mike suspects that he and Rachel make music instead of foreplay.)

He dumps Rachel’s legs on the floor and she doesn’t even scowl because Rachel Berry does just about anything for music. Instead she watches as her boyfriend plays a few practice riffs and then starts tapping a rhythm on the body of the guitar, waiting for Finn to get to a point in the melody where he can jump in and bam, suddenly they have music. 

And yeah, now that the guitar’s in there, Mike recognizes it too, and so do the rest of the gleeks.

Quinn gets up from Finn’s lap when he starts going to town on his makeshift drums and she and Rachel exchange ‘our boyfriends love their toys more than us, let’s make them pay’ looks. (Mike knows that look. All girls are born with it.)

The blonde pulls the brunette from her seat and they stand in the aisle, back to back, dancing and shimmying to the music. Kurt sighs and rolls his eyes and Artie starts up a background beat on the arms of his ‘chair. Brittany laughs.

Around them, the college kids and the business people in the corner fall silent and give the crazy kids a mild stink eyes. Right up until Rachel opens her mouth and belts out the first few lines. 

“Hey now, all you sinners,” she sings and Quinn snaps her fingers in time and offers background harmony. “Put your lights on.”

There is a lot of eye-contact going on as they throw the lead around the same way they’ve done a thousand times before, each line a different voice. Rachel grins at them and San and Britt clap their hands and take the next line, “Put your lights on!”

And back to their female lead. “Hey now, all you lovers!”

“Put your lights on,” Mercedes puts in her two cents.

“Put your lights on,” Kurt and Matt follow.

Puck laughs and Mike joins him because this? Is so totally _glee_. The two cheerleaders stand and start dancing to the music, content to echo the lines while Rachel leads. “Hey now, all you killers, put your lights on, put your lights on.”

Mercedes throws in a long note and Matt and Mike share a look, rolling their eyes. Then they stand, too, and join the rest of the crew on, “All you children, leave your lights on, you better leave your lights on!”

Back to Quinn for harmony and Mike grabs Santana, who’s closest and starts spinning her in some bastardized version of a Tango that has her laughing instead of singing and her skirt flying nicely. (What, he has eyes!)

Matt, the loser, copies him and takes Britt for a spin. Rachel and Quinn spin so that they’re facing each other, swaying from side to side, making bedroom eyes at their boys, who grin broadly and don’t stop playing. They all hum and ‘yeah’ together, Mercy and Tina dance around Kurt, who, like always, pretends to be a little bitch and remains seated, arms crossed sullenly. Eventually they have enough and manhandle him to his feet and he gives in gracelessly, grabbing hold of Artie and moving him around while he keeps drumming. 

The girls let the boys have the next stanza and Puck sings, “Cause there’s a monster, living under my bed, whispering in my ear. And there’s an angel,” cue moon-eyes at Rachel, “with a hand on my head.”

Finn takes the next line and smiles at Quinn. “She say I got nothing to fear!”

“There’s a darkness, living deep in my soul,” Mercedes belts, “it still got a purpose to serve.” She bumps Kurt, who bumps right back and they take it together, “So let your lights shine, deep into my home. God, don’t let me lose my nerve!”

San sings in his ear loud enough to make it ring, “Don’t let me lose my nerve!”

Mike pushes her away and she lets go of his hand, grabbing Matt’s instead and Mike suddenly has a blonde cheerio where he just had brunette. Britt smiles at him as he reels her in with three complete spins and then dips her.

The rest of the group sing the bridge, all ‘hey now’ and ‘wo-ho’ and then Puck really hits the strings and Finn finishes with a drum roll and everyone’s laughing and clinging to each other.

Tomorrow they’ll go back to school and Tina and Artie will pretend to be over each other even though they’re not. Matt will be pissed with San and Britt for sneaking around behind his back while he was still dating San. Finn and Puck will play best friends and still sometimes hate each other. Mercedes will complain that she’s forever single and Kurt will get thrown in a dumpster if there’s no glee-jock around to protect him. The original gleeks will still have to jump into random closets to avoid slushies and Rachel and Puck will fight way, way too much and she and Kurt will bitch each other out all. The. Time. And Quinn will sometimes put a hand on her flat belly and look incredibly hollow and Britt and Finn will both fight to keep their average high enough to be eligible for extracurricular activities.

But right now, they’re laughing.

The other patrons clap and then one of the college kids calls, “Can you play something else?”

And Puck shrugs at Rachel, who shrugs at Quinn, who laughs at Finn and the two footballers start up a different song, one that’s got enough beat for Mike and Matt to have a dance off and so they do, in the middle of McDonald’s, under the cheers of Britt and San, while the others sing and provide a beat by stomping and clapping.

Two of the business people get up from their chairs and start loosely dancing and it’s obvious that they have no idea what they’re doing, but they’re smiling. The guy at the counter bobs his head a little as he refills straws. The college kids come closer and holler and cheer when Mike does a flip, and then again when Matt does that thing with a chair he’s been working on. 

It’s half an hour to midnight on a Thursday evening, in the middle of a fast food restaurant, under ugly, halogen lights. Everyone else looks pale and faded, like zombies. But these people? Mike’s crew? This rag-tag group of losers, freaks and outcasts?

They _dance_.

.

End

.


End file.
